A Little Assistance
by J.L. Stone
Summary: What If AWL ps2 Carter gets a second assistant from Mineral Town, and although Flora denies having any feelings for him, hidden emotions emerge from her reclusive self as she battles for the professor’s affection. WARNING: This story contains a Mary Sue


TITLE: A Little Assistance

SUMMARY: (What If AWL ps2) Carter gets a second assistant from Mineral Town, and although Flora denies having any feelings for him, hidden emotions emerge from her reclusive self as she battles for the professor's affection. WARNING: This story contains a Mary Sue. Sorry

AUTHOR: J.L. Stone

CATEGORY: Harvest Moon

GENRE: Romance/Humor

RATED: Unrated as of yet

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_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Greetings! This is my first Harvest Moon Fanfiction, but I would like to assure you all that I am no newbie. I have been writing Fanfiction from the age of eleven, so I do have extensive knowledge on how to write it. I would also like to take the time to point out that there are some improvised elements to this story—one being the story itself, two being some of the characters' back stories (we know little of Carter and Flora's past, so I've gone with what seems to be most believable). If you have any problems, suggestions, or compliments please either post them in your review on your way out, or you may also use the message sender. Thank you, and enjoy your reading._

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_**DISCLAIMER: **To whom it may concern, I have no intent of using this piece of work as means of money or fame. It was written for my pleasure, and joy it brings my lovely readers. Kindly do not sue me, as I am penniless and have nothing of true worth but a best friend and a fat, gray cat._

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**Chapter One**

Carter had learned to tune the rushing of the enormous waterfall out of his mind—now, it seemed more a background noise than anything else. Just as the city, dweller trains himself to ignore the rumble of car and train, so did the archeologist teach his ears. Flora, however, had not adjusted well to the transition from city to country. Before the valley, she had resided in Mineral Town, where the streets were loaded with people and business while the country teemed with nature and harmony.

The girl would always be a recluse. Carter did not doubt this aspect of his assistant—she was sweet and fairly intelligent, although at times not as bright as he might have hope. She did not talk often, but was helpful and she could cook, although her meals generally brought with them the blackened and burned edges that herald indigestion. The fact of the matter was that Flora was a good assistant, but she just wasn't enough. This is why Carter had decided to phone the Mineral Town Institute for a second assistant. Of course, he had done this on the third—he had, as usual, taken the day off, took a walk to the Inner Inn, and had used their telephone. The professor hadn't told Flora—he meant it as a surprise for the monotony that had plagued them so—he expected she would appreciate it.

It was on the fifth that the much-needed assistance arrived. Earlier than at first expected, a caravan much like the one that had brought Carter and Flora into the valley rolled down the long, dusty road that ended at the roiling waterfall. The car was pulled by a huge, chestnut-brown Clydesdale that bore all the dressings of a workhorse. The roads of the valley were traveled by foot or wooden wheel only—the tires of a metal car could not navigate well on those long, dirt roads.

At the front of this caravan, a haggard looking rider in brown clothes held the reins of the Clydesdale with lax grip. Beside him sat a woman who donned light khaki pants and a white, cotton, button-down shirt. Her slender form rocked with the motion of the bumpily riding wagon. Her blue eyes took in the sights and smells around her, and dimly she noted the rush of the waterfall, which tinkled ahead.

Carter stood beside the river, arms outstretched, and his back to the rising sun. His morning ritual consisted of this: At five of the morn, he would rise and greet the day anew. Stretching, he would walk to the banks of the clear, cool river, and close his eyes—and as the sun drew up from the east, so did he draw the strength and stamina he needed for the day, by lifting his arms wide and meditating silently. So, as the clock reached 7:00 am, he barely noticed the grind of the wheels that stopped before him. The professor opened his eyes for the first time in two hours.

"So, you must be Professor Carter?" The question was more a phrase. The girl in the carriage stepped down from her seat as the caddy began unpacking her luggage. She wiped a strand of long, dark hair from her face and observed the man before her. He was tall and thick—but not fat—with a dense crop of black hair and refined eyes, framed by narrow, box-framed spectacles. He wore the brown clothing she had expected, and about his neck was a red, beaded necklace of foreign origin. Carter stood on the banks of the river with his arms still outstretched, but his eyes open. He appeared as if waiting for her embrace, but she was eyeing him curiously.

"If you must ask," he said, "then yes, I am."  
"You called for my assistance, sir?" The girl answered promptly. Carter did not put his arms down, on the contrary, he closed his eyes once more. Letting the sounds of the river wash over him once more, he answered:  
"Quite. The dig site is expanding and I need another hand . . . or two." He opened one eye and observed the dark-haired woman briefly, then smiled. "I don't know . . . are you perhaps a mutant? Three our four more hands might lend better help."

There was a moment in which they both laughed, but this was quickly broken by the caddy. He pulled the long, brown tent—which had been rolled up—from the back of the caravan. He was staring at the girl when he asked, "Where do you want this?"

"Over . . ." she paused and pointed to a spot opposite Carter's tent, on the other side of the dig site, "there."

The caddy obeyed, and with a heave, he carried the heavy thing off. The girl turned back to Carter. She remained silent for several long moments. Curiously, she looked on at this man who stood with his arms outstretched on the banks of a river, as if this was as ordinary as eating or breathing. Crossing her arms across her chest, the woman frowned.

"What is it you are doing, exactly, Professor?"

Carter did not answer immediately, "Oh . . . er—meditating." He was momentarily unconscious from the world around and was being gradually pulled from his stasis from this outside force. Finally, the Professor decided that he was not going to be able to _meditate_ for much longer. Slowly, he opened his eyes and leisurely he brought his arms back to his sides and stood, very awkwardly on the riverside. Minutes passed before either spoke, but when one did, it was she.

"Loreena Sabon," she said eventually, and she stepped forward to shake his hand. He held his out and she gripped hard, forcing him to also grasp. She smiled widely, "Please . . . call me Lori."

"Lori," Carter repeated, "well, my assistant, Flora, is in the tent. Probably about to put some coffee on . . . oh," he looked over, "speak of the devil. Here she is now."

The kinky-haired, blonde assistant stepped clumsily from the tent. The flap, which she failed to push aside, blinded her momentarily. She stumbled back, but regained her balance and stood there, gaping across at Carter and Lori. Finally, her mind snapped into action, and she rushed over at mid-sprint.

"Car—I mean, Professor! Who is _this_?" She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. Carter, just about to open his mouth, was interrupted suddenly.

"Loreena Sabon!" Once more the new aid offered her hand, this time, so that Flora could shake it. "Call me Lori. Might I say, it's a pleasure meeting you."

Flora stared at her hand for a brief moment, then shook it limply. She then rounded on Carter.

"Professor! Can I talk to you alone, for a moment?"

Carter looked at her, a bit taken aback. His brows went up and he gazed at Flora with a questionable expression. With a nod of his head, he turned to Lori and smiled distractedly: "If you would, Miss Sabon—Lori . . . excuse us for a moment."

At this point, Flora grabbed him by the arm and began dragging him over to their tent. Lori, meanwhile, busied herself with helping the caddy unload her many piles of luggage and equipment.

"Flora!" Carter hissed as he was drawn into the privacy of their tent. "What is the meaning of this! Do you know how r—"

"Who _is _she?"

Carter gazed down into her big, warm eyes. His brows furrowed. "The new assistant! I thought we could use an extra hand around the dig site."

"Are you," she looked at the ground, "replacing me?"

"Heavens no, Flora! What would give you a silly idea like _that_?"

There was a long silence. The only sound in the tent was the rushing of the waterfall. Carter heaved a sigh and pursed his lips.

"Flora . . . Flora. I'm sure you two will get along fine. I hear she's an excellent cook . . ." her head snapped up. Carter rescued him self with: "_Not _that your cooking _isn't _excellent! Because it is!" He put a hand under her chin and brought her eyes up to meet his.

"You're just saying that."

He smiled, "No. You're food is delicious." Flora sighed and looked away, her bottom lip trembling. "So . . . you're not replacing me?"

"No, of course not!" He patted her on the back. "You'll see! Once we start digging! You're both equals! Now, let's go out there and help our girl unpack."

He led Flora outside into the sun. As they crossed the space between their camps, he wondered vaguely if this was a bad idea. He shook it from his mind. There was work to be done!

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_**Chapter 2 will be coming soon. Until then, feedback is much appreciated. Take care.**_


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